


Sleep, Sherlock, Sleep

by mattsloved1



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 14:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattsloved1/pseuds/mattsloved1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knows Sherlock is only staying awake now because he's stubborn. Some silliness to make us smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep, Sherlock, Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> After eighteen days of not being able to write, because of either lack of time or creativity, this happened in fifteen minutes and came from a very tired brain. Many thanks to MapleLeafCameo for looking this over for me! :-)
> 
> I don't own them so don't make anything from this.

“Sherlock, will you please just go to bed?”

 

The man in question shot his flatmate a glare before responding. “I would appreciate if you would stop acting as though I were a child, John. I have told you many times before that my body is merely transport and –”

 

“And **I** have told **you** that despite what you may believe, you are a human being like the rest of us small minded idiots and that means your body needs to rest more than once every three days!”

 

John slammed the newspaper he’d been reading onto his lap in frustration.

 

Three days of working on an experiment had kept the consulting detective awake.  Understanding the importance of such procedures, John had remained calm about the lack of kitchen and only shouted a little when a small explosion had filled the flat with smoke. But the analysis had reached its conclusion six hours earlier.

 

Since then, Sherlock had taken possession of the sofa when he really needed to collapse onto his bed.  A gentle nudge in that direction from John earlier had resulted in the gangly genius throwing a tantrum and staying awake in sheer stubbornness.  The doctor in him knew a crash was about to happen and by this point he didn’t care if the sofa was where Sherlock stayed as long as he was asleep.

 

Knowing his body would not allow anything less than a twenty-four hour hibernation, John decided to offer a challenge he knew Sherlock would lose.

 

“You want me to leave you alone? All right, let’s make a wager.”  He leaned forward as he spoke. “I bet you can’t count to two hundred before losing consciousness.”

 

Sherlock snorted in derision.

 

John ignored the noise and continued on. “If you make it to the end then I will leave you alone and clean up the mess in the kitchen. However, if you don’t make it all the way then you have to admit I was right and you were wrong after you wake up. Deal?”

 

Condescending smile in place, Sherlock shifted onto his back and took a breath. Unable to stop himself, he threw out an insult before beginning. “I must say, after all the knowledge I have graciously shared with you these past two years, I expect better from you.  This nonsense really is child’s play.”

 

John rolled his eyes but remained silent as Sherlock began to count.  Upon reaching forty the detective’s voice was strong and clear. Eighty came across the living room a little slower and lighter. One hundred passed and Sherlock could not hide the yawn attached from his flatmate. Deciding it would be best for the exercise to be finished sooner rather than later, he started speaking faster and the numbers between one hundred twenty and one hundred thirty were thrown out at such a rapid pace, John couldn’t really hear the words clearly. Unfortunately for Sherlock the increased speed had forced him to pause for breath and another yawn forced itself out.

 

John waited patiently for the inevitable and, upon hearing the words one hundred and fifty repeated twice, knew his reward was secured.

 

A twenty second pause was followed by a quiet snore and the doctor remained frozen until he was certain Sherlock’s breath had slowed and the genius was making small noises signalling deep sleep.

 

John laid a blanket gently over the still form and made his way to the kitchen. There was no point in leaving the dishes until later, especially if he wanted them cleaned properly.


End file.
